Drunken Tears (Two-shot)
by Roronoa333
Summary: A very drunk Rick bursts into Morty's room during the night and reveals a snippet of his past.
1. Chapter 1

Rick shoved the door open. He switched the light on and staggered into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Morty jolted awake at the sound. "R-Rick? Wh-what the hell?" he said, groaning as he sat up.

His grandfather near enough collapsed on the bed. He grabbed Morty's arm, pulling him toward him. "M-Morty… I need… I need to t-tell yoOUGHH s-something, Morty," Rick said. Morty winced - Rick's breath reeked of liquor.

"Rick, i-it's 3am. I ha-have school tomorrow!"

"F-forgot about school, M-morty." Rick released Morty and instead gripped his head in his hands, digging his nails into his scalp.

"Rick, a-are you drunk?" Morty grabbed Rick's wrists and pulled his hands away. "Y-you're making yourself bleed, R-Rick," Morty said, gawking at the blood running down his grandfather's head.

"I f-fucking hate m-myself, Morty." Tears spilled down his cheeks. "I f-fucking… hate myself," he repeated.

Morty had frequently taken care of his grandfather while blackout drunk, but this was new. Rick had never broken down crying like this before. "Um… Th-there, there," Morty murmured, awkwardly rubbing Rick's bony back. Morty sighed as his grandfather took a swig from his flask.

"M-my past M-Morty… My Morty… B-before you..." Rick's body shook as he sobbed. "H-he died…" Morty wrapped a comforting arm around his grandfather, gently prying the flask out of his hand. "It was in m-my arms, Morty. The f-fucker got sh-shot. Bled out." He stared at his hands as if they were still covered in blood.

"Shhhh. It's okay, Rick. Let's get you into bed…" Morty said, giving Rick a quick hug, but Rick shoved him away. "What the hell, Rick?!" He rubbed his arm, his eyebrows furrowed.

"D-don't touch me!" he yelled, jolting upright, his fists clenched. There was a silence. Rick took a deep breath and returned to his slouched posture. "M-Morty, I h-hope I'm not like m-my dad was… I-I'm not, a-am I?" Rick mumbled. Morty raised his eyebrows. Rick had never mentioned his dad before…

"You're not, Rick," Morty said. He had no idea who Rick's dad was or what he'd done, but it was the only way for Rick to calm down.

"H-He beat me a lot… I e-ended up in hospital, M-Morty…" Rick trailed off and stood up, wobbling. "'M gonna go," he slurred before collapsing on the floor. Morty rushed over to his side.

"Rick, come on, wake up…" he said, shaking Rick, but to no avail. Sighing, he dragged Rick over to his bed and hauled him onto it. He pulled the blankets up to his armpits and gazed down at him, shaking his head. "Y-You can be a real pain sometimes, you know." He dabbed the blood and tears away from Rick's face with a tissue and refilled his flask and set it on the bedside table next to him.

Yawning, he walked over to his desk, dragging his feet, and slumped into the chair. He made himself comfortable and closed his eyes. Man, was he gonna be tired at school tomorrow...


	2. Chapter 2

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've tried my best to keep the characters in character but it's so goddamn hard when there's this much character development. Especially with Rick. I feel like neither of them are in character, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. The ending is a little rushed and I had no idea how to end it also, so sorry if it seems abrupt. Enjoy!**_

 _BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-_

Groaning, Morty slammed a hand down on his alarm to turn it off. His back ached from leaning over his desk and he felt groggy. Rick was still soundly asleep in his bed. "B-better not disturb him…" Morty mumbled as he put on a yellow shirt. He pulled on a pair of blue jeans and trudged into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed - his face looked unusually pale and he had huge bags under his eyes.

Morty paused mid-brush. Had Rick really said all that stuff last night, or was it just a dream? ...No, it couldn't have been a dream. Afterall, Rick was snoring away, dead to the world, in Morty's room at this very moment. He put the brush back into the cup and splashed his face with water.

His head hurt and his stomach ached. Maybe he should just take the day off. He was too tired to focus anyway. Rick would be fine with it, but his Dad would bring up the issue of his attendance again… Morty sighed and trudged down the stairs where his family was eating breakfast.

"Morty, you don't look so good," Beth said, scurrying over to him. She placed a hand on his forehead and frowned. "I think you should take the day off."

"B-but m-m-my attendence-" he stammered.

"You can't go in if you're sick," Beth said. Jerry glanced up from his game and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Go back to bed and rest," she continued, ruffling his hair. He nodded and trudged back up the stairs.

Morty gave a huge sigh of relief when he returned to his room. Glancing over at Rick, he shut the door and sat back down at his desk. He held his pounding head in his hands, groaning. He longed to be in the comfort of his own bed - why couldn't Rick just wake up and go back to his own room? Rubbing his temples, he stood up, striding over to the bed. He snapped his fingers in Rick's face. "W-wake up." He snapped his fingers again. "C-come on R-Rick, I wanna s-sleep."

Rick gradually opened his eyes and groaned. "M-Morty? Wha?" He winced and put a hand to his head. "Wh-woah, that's one n-n-nasty hangover… God, I n-need a drink." He sat up and dragged a hand through his hair and reached for the flask on the table. He took several long sips.

"D-do you remember l-last night?" Morty asked.

"H-huh?" Rick looked at him. "Wh-whoa, Mo-OURGH-ty, you dont… Y-you don't look so hot. C-come over h-here," he said. Morty complied, allowing his grandfather to hold a hand to his forehead. His touch was much gentler than Beth's, and Morty found himself leaning into the cool touch. "W-wow, y-you're pretty sick, huh... L-lie down Morty." Rick got out of bed and held the sheets up for Morty to crawl into.

"R-Rick-" Morty started, but he was interrupted.

"H-hang on, M-M-Morty. I'll get s-something for th-that fever," Rick said, walking out the room. He returned with a wet cloth, a glass of water, and some medicine. He sat down on the side of the bed and helped Morty sit up, and he gave him the tablets. Then he held the glass of water to Morty's lips. "D-drink it slow," he murmured, rubbing Morty's back soothingly as he took a sip of the cool liquid. Morty sighed.

"R-Rick. Do you remember l-last night?" he asked again. Rick was silent. He eased Morty back down and placed the cold cloth on his forehead.

"Vaguely," was all he said.

"A-about your dad? A-a-and your other Morty," Morty said. Rick stiffened. He took a long swig from his flask. "Y-you're not j-just gonna bottle this up, a-are you? Th-the drunk you mentioned it f-for a reason, you know, R-Rick."

"M-Mo-OURGH-ty. A l-lot of M-Mortys die on adventures. I-it's a pain in the ass to get a replacement f-from the citadel, b-but it's possible. Th-the fuckers wouldn't g-give me one, s-so I came to your reality wh-where your previous Rick had died 15 years ago," Rick explained.

"S-s-so what drunk you said was true?" Morty asked.

"Wh-what did I s-say wh-while-URRP-drunk, M-Morty?"

"Y-you said he got shot and d-died in your arms."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Y-yeah," he said after a silence. "I-I messed up o-on an adventure wh-while stealing s-some parts. We… We got caught. C-Couldn't get h-him to hospital in time." Morty rubbed Rick's back.

"Wh-what a-about your dad? Y-you said he beat you?" he asked. He felt a pang of guilt for prying, but he couldn't contain his cuoriosity.

Rick remained silent. He downed the rest of the whiskey in his flask and pocketed it. "S-sorry…" Morty said.

"No, it's okay, M-Morty," Rick said, sighing. "Y-yeah, he did beat me. H-he had PTSD f-from the War, M-Morty. H-he was a-an alcoholic a-a-a-and it made him pretty-URRP-a-aggressive. H-he broke my a-arm pretty badly once a-and I ended up in h-hospital, M-Mo-OURGH-ty. I t-told myself I w-would n-never drink." Rick chuckled. "I-it's g-good stuff, M-Morty. I-I-I see why he drank so much, now."

"Why don't you quit?" Morty asked.

"I-it stops me… Fr-from killing myself, M-Morty. D-don't try and t-take this away from me." Rick stood up. "Y-you done prying into m-my life now, Morty?"

"Sorry, R-Rick, I-" Morty was interrupted by Rick ruffling his hair.

"D-Don't worry about it, M-Morty. Y-You mean a lot to me. You d-d-derserve to-URRP-know. J-just don't tell your mom," he said, and walked out of the room before Morty could reply. But Morty wasn't mad. He smiled, and snuggled down into the sheets, happy to finally receive some love from Rick. Maybe Rick would be less grouchy with him now he'd opened up. Well, he'd have to wait and see. For now, he should get some rest. He closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.


End file.
